


For a Postman's Fee

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Ficlet, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One, two, three<br/>It could be that easy<br/>There we'd be<br/>I with my baby<br/>On a sea of fleur-de-lis</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Postman's Fee

**Author's Note:**

> I literally listened to [this song](https://www.box.com/s/jlin9k1kam3at6smbsd8) on repeat while writing this. So. Yup. Prompted by norfolkdumpling posting [these](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/thalialunacy/1077284/1518948/1518948_original.jpg) [pictures](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/thalialunacy/1077284/1519542/1519542_original.jpg), the resulting comment that that's (endearingly) an iPhone 4, which isn't the newest model, and my job, which let's just say involves a lot of dumb questions about iPhones and leave it at that.

There are like, five people alive that have Chris's house number, and four of them are most definitely asleep at this hour. So when the line rings insistently, he reaches over and answers it without preamble.

"Yeah."

"How do you close an app again?"

His book lowers to his belly. "Karl..."

"I remember something about double-clicking something, and then something jiggles, but—"

" _Karl_."

"What."

"Are you asking me for advice on a phone while calling me on that phone?"

"…no."

"Liar." He can hear Karl throwing his arms up in the air, then pictures him making one of his graceful grabs at the consequently falling phone. "Nice catch," he says, grinning a little. Rubbing his chest, right above his ribs.

"Dick."

"You say the nicest things when I'm right."

"Well, this phone is just—" Karl stops, but Chris is curious. It sounded like there was going to be something significant in that next phrase.

"It's what? Shiny?"

"Nerd."

Chris snorts. "Yeah, right. I just… speak their language."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yeah, man. I had to woo one, once."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." He stares out the open window at the night skyline. "It was surprisingly difficult."

Karl laughs; it's only two-dimensions through the phone but Chris can nearly fill in the third. "Yeah, there are always a few stumbling blocks in cross-cultural exchanges."

Chris shakes his head. He can feel the night air on his teeth where he's smiling. "So yes, you double-click the home button—"

"Why is there only one button?"

"Because it does everything you'd need it to do, now _listen_ , you giant geek. You double click that, then they'll all come up, all the apps you have open. Then you press and hold the one you want to close, and a little red bar will appear on it. Then you tap that little red bar, and it'll close."

"That seems complicated."

"It isn't."

"It seems like it is."

"It wouldn't be if you would call me from any other phone."

"Yeah, but any other phone wasn't yours."

Chris's hand stops rubbing, stops right above his heart. "Karl…"

Karl clears his throat. "Right."

"Karl—"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

"No, you should." Chris's fingers clutch onto his handset a little harder. "I gave you that phone with one string attached and you, you fucker, should use it, anytime you want. Got that?"

There's a pause. Then a little noise, and then Karl's voice sounds closer, lower. "Aye aye."

Chris laughs, emotion releasing out of his chest. "Dick."

"Aaand we've come full circle."

"Don't we always?"

"Right, now, that is far too deep for this hour."

"a) That's what she said—"

"Groan."

"—and b) It's like nine pm where you are." Then he realizes belatedly, like people without kids do, that Karl probably has places to be. People to be tucking into bed. "And I should let you go."

"Chris—"

"And I know, I know, I hate that phrase and I bitch about it a lot but seriously, you have shit to do and I'm just—giving you overly complex information about a phone that you can't use."

"I can, too."

"You can turn it on and press the 'call Chris' button I programmed into it."

"Like I said."

"That's not even—"

"Chris."

Chris stops. He's a fucking goner when Karl says his name like that. And Karl knows it, the asshole. "Okay."

"That string goes both ways."

And Chris's chest feels so full, he doesn't know what to do with it. He pushes his free hand into the couch cushion next to him, lets out a breath. "Okay."

"And I do have to go, and you should shut up and get back to your Kerouac or whatever it is you kids are reading these days. I'll call—soon. I'll call soon."

Chris's lips curve. "Okay." He pulls back, and the indent his fist made in the cushion makes its way back to fullness. "Okay."

**_fin_ **


End file.
